


All in Good Time

by titansatemysoul



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Come Eating, Come Marking, Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post Episode Ignis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 13:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15510582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titansatemysoul/pseuds/titansatemysoul
Summary: Ignis holds his head high, shuddering as the rough leather and smooth metal graze his skin. He is renewed. To something different - somethingbetter.





	All in Good Time

Kept by a retinue of crownsguard and humanitarians bound for the ruins of Niflheim, Noctis retires to his chambers, belabored and dragging, hours later than he intended. They’ll depart for the desolated wasteland come morning, and though it’s unlikely there are more survivors than the few who sought asylum in Lucis, one never knows.

Ignis has just stepped out of the shower when he hears the door and familiar gate of his husband moving around their bedroom.

“You’re back,” he says, emerging from the bathroom, rustling a towel over slicked back, dripping hair. Another is hung impossibly low around his hips, accentuating the ‘V’ of his torso. “I told you, you should have let me stay and help you.”

“I was fine without you,” Noct replies, unhooking the gold fastening of his mantle. The mattress sinks in where he sits, fumbling with the brace around his knee. Though not a true piece of his raiment, it stands as a memory, a small tribute – though certainly not enough – to the King who wore it before him. “Your day was long enough.”

“Well, at least let me help you.” Royalty hasn’t changed Ignis, ever the liege to his lord. Readjusting his towel, he sinks to his knees, carefully undoing the catch of the metal. Noctis watches intently, following those delicate hands down to his dress shoes, slipping them off and setting them to the side. Ignis tilts his head, a soft, welcoming smile reserved just for him, leaning into the finger that traces his cheek.

“Thank you,” Noctis says quietly, then, “I’ve been keeping something for you.”

The collar is hidden in the inside pocket of his suit, familiar pitch leather adorned in gold, sun shaped rungs connected by delicate, thin chains. Noct lifts him by the chin, skin still damp and cool to the touch.

“May I?” he asks. Ignis bites the inside of his lower lip, pulling his towel free from his hips.

“Whatever you’d like,” voice heavy with the beginnings of lust. Of _need_. “Your _Majesty_ , my heart is yours.”

He holds his head high, shuddering when rough leather and smooth metal graze his skin, and just like that, he is renewed. To something different — something _better_. Heartbeat rising, Ignis waits, lowering his gaze to the floor. Now he’ll wait for permission, bound by the rules of this particular role. The sound of a buckle and the rustling of cloth come from just above his eye line, hips rising on either side. He desperately wants to see, but he mustn’t. Ignis is a patient man in nearly all respects. Here, he’s just desperate.

Noctis sighs, moaning through closed lips, making no effort to hide what he’s doing. His body tenses, gasps turning into staggered breaths. Ignis, for his part, rocks on his heels, hands fixed, squeezed between his thighs.

There’s a pause, and then a palm appears at his mouth, splotched with the slick of precome, the platinum band on his finger glinting in the low light of their bedroom. Noctis needn’t ask for the tentative tongue already laving at his palm, slow and wide licks alternated with quick, darting over the creases and the dips between his fingers. Ignis grabs for his wrist, steadying the delicacy that is his King.

“Hands,” Noctis reminds him. It’s playful, but a warning all the same and more than enough to correct the mistake, the lovely creature between his legs retreating back to his rightful place. Ignis savors the flavor of his master’s flesh and arousal until there’s nothing left but the taste of himself. Once again, the hand disappears above him, the other bestowing adoring pets on his crown. Groans and sharp breaths intermingle with audible strokes, a thin chord of precome extending down until it breaks, a single drop landing on Ignis’ thigh. The smallest keen escapes him, bit back just in time.

“Close your eyes, and look up,” comes a fresh command, ragged and throaty. Ignis does as he’s told, again, not daring to go higher than is permitted. Just until he can hear the subtle squelch of Noct’s hand, level with his lips.

“Mouth shut,” he says, the grip on the top of his head tilting him just so. Ignis can feel the tremors in his master’s thighs, barely a second before his face is streaked with come. Noctis twitches, hips jerking forward, sex jammed against his face, as if daring him to open his mouth. Ignis is so _painfully_ hard, the temptation making his cock weep for its neglect. But, he resists, every ounce of his restraint poured into holding still while his master finishes his climax. The hand in his hair relaxes, limbs surrounding his body deflating as Noctis comes down, the last vestiges of his come running over the curve of Ignis’ bottom lip and down onto his chin and just below.

“Open your eyes,” the King’s voice is gentle, lifting Ignis by the chin. He obeys on a long exhale, lashes fluttering as he’s met with his master’s reverent gaze.

“That was good.” Noctis swells with pride, not for Ignis, but for himself. For training such a docile pet, unwavering in his obedience and beholden to anything his master is willing to give. Sweeping a finger through his come, he offers it to Ignis.

If it’s a ruse, Ignis mustn’t give in – and his master does love testing him so. The threat of a feint keeps his tongue firmly in place. “It’s alright,” he’s assured. “It’s a reward. You can have it, I promise.”

Tricks aside, Ignis trusts his master unconditionally, and so he relishes his prize, meticulously collecting every drop that he’s offered, still warmed and slick, thick in his mouth and smooth going down.

“Do you want the rest?” Noctis asks once he’s finished, withdrawing from the hot, come coated cavern. Ignis nearly forgets himself, almost speaks, almost _pleads_. But to do so would forsake anymore of Noct’s generosity, so he nods instead, expressing his gratitude with action rather than words. He licks his lips, yearning for more as Noctis gathers it off his cheek, moaning when he’s allowed a second share. They go until his face is clean, left with only smears on his exquisite features – but his master doesn’t relent. Instead he forces his way deeper, suppressing his tongue and brushing against the roof of his mouth. Noctis nudges a clothed foot between his legs, pressing his cock crudely into his belly.

“I know you need more,” he says, testing the limits of his gag. As expected, Ignis doesn’t disappoint. "Don’t worry my love – all in good time.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since I've been able to post anything. As some of you may be aware, I no longer live in the United States. Acclimating to a new country, new school and a new timezone has been a full time job, and although I've still been able to write here and there, my opportunities to share and keep up any consistency have been slim.
> 
> Now that the obligations I had to various projects are finished and with a regular internet connection just a week away (fingers crossed!), I'm really excited to come back.
> 
> This fic was born in May, written all in one go when I had a hankering for some pet play. It will be ongoing.
> 
> I miss ignoct constantly and I hope you'll see more of me going forward <3


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